


There is No Peace in These City Streets

by Draikinator



Category: My Little Pony, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Gen, tempest making her way in the world as a teenager on her own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 13:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draikinator/pseuds/Draikinator
Summary: A young Tempest makes her way in the world on her own.





	There is No Peace in These City Streets

You bite the bit in your mouth hard, sweat pouring from your brow like rain and you put one hoof in front of the other, and you pull the plow through the soil. Your muscles are screaming and begging you to take a break, but the sooner you finish, the sooner you get paid, and you’re starving.

You have two more rows to till before you’re done and when you are you rip the halter from your head like it burns. The old man that owns the farm seems as happy with your work as he did watching you do it, but he gives you the bag of coins he promised and you put them in your bag and stop by the market on your way home. It’s dark and the shops are closed, but you know Ol’ Tyco stays late on thursdays because that’s when his supplier drops off the new peaches and he likes you, so you think he’ll still sell you some this late.

It’s a nice night, actually- the smog is light and you can see a few stars pinpricking through the darkness to glimmer down at you. You rap on the door with one hoof and after a moment, you hear Ol’ Tyco’s voice on the other said.

“Oy? Who’s out there? I ain’t got no money for ya.”

“It’s me,” you say, “Did you get the new peaches?”

The door opens, and the old griffin lets you in, “Aye, Tempest with the temper, it’s as good to see you as always. The new peaches be in, ye, did you bring any coin?”

“You know I did,” you say, and dip your muzzle into your bag and pull out three coins, “Can I get one for the road?”

Ol’ Tyco ruffles your hair with his wrinkly claws and grins around his vulture beak, before digging into the wooden crate he’s stocking the fruit display with and pulling out a few peaches, settling on one he hands you. You notice it’s nicer than the first few he looked at, but you don’t dwell on that.

“Thanks, Tyco,” you say, taking the peach gently in your mouth and putting it in your bag. You go back onto the street and you head home. You rent out the stall of a horse stable in lower end, and you’re the only horse there that owns yourself. You’re also the only one that can talk.

Your stall isn’t so awful. You taped the lock open so it won’t shut you in and tacked up some glowy plastic stars to the walls, and the stablehand always gives you the softest hay since you’re the only one that will complain if she doesn’t.

You drop your bag on the floor and curl up in your favourite corner, holding the peach delicately between your two hooves. You close your eyes when you bite into it and let the taste take over your senses, sweet and soft, a special treat after a particularly hard day.

You open your eyes and look out the back window. There’s a new sign up on the far barn wall by the inn. The Storm King’s army is recruiting.

Tomorrow will be a better day.


End file.
